Last Week #32 | Strong Independent Woman™

 Sorry for the brief absence. The week after Thanksgiving, I had a bit of a meltdown. I realized that a lot of things were bothering me that I hadn't thought would be, and then criticized myself for letting them get to me. For instance, I realized that it did actually bother me that when I went home for Thanksgiving (literally less than two months after I'd left) my room that I'd lived in for more than half of my life was getting a complete overhaul. It did actually bother me that I felt like I had no place in my home anymore, even though I made the choice to leave. And despite these huge revelations, I still had school projects to finish, and I still had to go to work. I had too much to do, and no time to figure any of it out, or give any of it the time and attention it deserved.

 I felt like nothing was the same. Not my home or my job or my school or even my freaking hair. And then, Eli and I were just not communicating well. It's been a long time coming, this bout of us figuring it out. For a week straight, we had the same arguments. The same conversations over and over again. By Thursday, I was sick of it. I lost it. I stopped replying to texts, and I fled to the Art Park by my apartment to work on a project, because even in crisis mode I can't help but do my freaking school work. He met me there, and we hashed it out. We said everything we felt like we couldn't say, for fear of hurting the other person's feelings-- everything we'd never explored because up until three months ago we didn't have a place to have these conversations. Have them in the basement of my house when we only have two hours to watch a movie? Nope. Have them in his bedroom, with a million people walking by at all times? Nope. Have them in a car at 11 pm on a Tuesday night, when I have to be home by 11:30 and one of us has to drive 30 minutes to get home? Nope. We put it off until now, when for the first time in the timeline of our relationship we finally have a space to discuss, explore, and say what's on our minds. And we got it all out on the table. 

 When all of this change began a few months ago, I told him that I would need him. That when it feels like things aren't good with us, it feels like I have nothing, because literally everything else in my life is in transit. I'm trying to fight the feeling that that is unhealthy. Because it doesn't matter. It's just what it is right now. But I have hope, and faith, that it will change. After a bout of bad, we are good. We are communicating better, listening better, and expressing our emotions better. 

 I still feel stupid for getting upset in the first place. Because you see, if I get emotional over my mom painting my room immediately after I move out, I'm no longer a Strong Independent Woman™. How will I fight the patriarchy if I cry over such juvenile things? And while I will forever be an advocate for every woman believing that she is strong and capable, I realized in these last few weeks that that ideology can sometimes go too far, and become negative. Sure, we're capable of anything and everything. But do we have to be? Can it be okay for us to fall, to cry, to be mean and irrational and illogical sometimes? Can we simply have too much on our plates without being told, "See, this is why women CAN'T have it all." 

I am a Strong Independent Woman ™. But I am also flawed and fragile and f*cking human, in need of a support system. I need someone to sit next to me while I scream and cry and yell and call people who piss me off terrible names. I need someone to be patient with me when I make a grumpy face after they make me laugh, because I'm in a Bad Mood ™ and I don't want to laugh. That's what I need. And Eli gives that to me. I don't think that makes me less strong, or less independent, or less of a woman. (It probably makes me "more" of that last one.) I'm a little afraid to post this, because I don't want you all to see my ugly side and judge me. But at the same time, I think that's kind of the point of this post. Not for you to judge me, but for me to accept myself enough to share it. 

 -Fran

Last Week #25 | One of Those Girls

First things first, I have a few questions for you. How the HELL do I write about being in a relationship for a year? How do I write about the fact that this time last year I hated two dates on the calendar, and now they are some of the most positive ones (while also retaining some of that sad nostalgia).

No answer? Okay then, let’s get on with this. Last week, I posted a really angsty blog post about my birthday, because I didn’t really know what to say about it yet but I had to say something. Now, I will say something better. My birthday has always felt like a letdown, because I had it in my head that it was supposed to be this perfect day. But now I think I’ve figured out what it is to me. It’s my New Year's. It’s the day where I have a total reset, where I celebrate the change and growth of the past year of my life, look forward to the next, and eat cake. That’s what my birthday was this year. And it was nice. I’ve decided it doesn’t have to be great, because like, that’s not what New Year’s is. New Year’s is where someone always cries about their life, make resolutions for the next year of it, and drink a lot.

Eli was an integral part of making my birthday a day of celebration and light and love. He literally showered me with gifts, and it's the only time I've ever felt like an actual birthday princess. The big one (which was actually an anniversary gift) was tickets to see Conor Oberst, the lead singer of my favorite band, Bright Eyes, in concert at Carnegie Hall the day before Thanksgiving. I cried. 

In fact, that's probably the theme of this week. Tears in the face of extraordinary joy. On Saturday the 24th, on our anniversary of a year of dating, after a night of birthday shenanigans, the sadness crept in to the bright edges of our celebratory day. All day as I fought the tears, I kept trying to remember, hold in my head, that you have to be sad to be happy sometimes. Not because of those bullshit sayings like “there’s no sun without the rain.” (Bullshit. That’s just scientifically and meteorologically incorrect.) But like, in the Inside Out way. Where sometimes happiness is a little bit sad. 

The day was sad because we knew we had to bring him to the airport for a family vacation in 12, 10, 8, 6, 4 hours. The day was sad because it had been such an overwhelmingly blissful 24 hours. The day was sad because honestly, it's sad to remember how sad you were before all of the happiness came. And even though you're happy now, you still feel sad for past you. September 24th, 2013 is the day I got into the car accident that changed my life. So before I met Eli, it was a REALLY shitty day. September 24th, 2015 is the day Eli and I agreed that if dating is watching The X-Files and eating Panera together, we wanted to do that. Stat. 

I obviously didn't know when we started dating how much of a responsibility love is. Taking someone's heart in your hands and promising you won't squeeze too hard and break it is an unimaginable undertaking. One that I didn't quite understand the enormity of when we first began. We've both learned so much about that over the past year, and not always the easy way. But we've also learned the positive aspects that we never could have imagined. I think what I've learned, and this is hard for me to admit, being the extraordinarily feminist human being that I am, is that he's made my life better. He's made it brighter. He's enriched it in ways I could never have fathomed. And I don't like to admit that because I like to think of myself as someone who can do it all on her own. Who can be strong and independent and smart and get where she's going entirely on her own. To be clear, I can. And I have. But I've learned that I don't need to. Having someone by your side as you do it all doesn't mean you couldn't do it all on your own. It just means you are lucky enough to have someone by your side, cheering you on. I get scared sometimes by how much I love Eli. I get scared that I love him too much, that I'm putting too much of myself into this relationship, that I'm one of those girls who gets in a relationship and loses perspective on everything. I want to be one of those girls who works and has a career and makes awesome art and reads intelligent literature and watches inspiring indie films and has great friends and IS a great friend. And I also want to love. I know that's a lot to ask of myself. I know I do that a lot. I expressed this fear to one of my friends the other week, and she just absolutely went off on me, as only a great friend can. No. You guys are great. You love each other, but you build each other up with that love. You're helping each other grow. (That's the gist of what she said. I can't remember precisely.)

Something I realized on Saturday, as I showed him the video I made him and we went to visit our friends at their coffee shop and we talked about religion and raising families and the best way to do it all and we said I love you and sobbed and held each other like we were afraid to let go, is that I am doing all of those things that one of those girls does. I'm doing it with him, and I'm doing it alone. To quote one of the comments on my anniversary video that my beautiful, lovely, wonderful friend Jean left, "Beautiful! The two of you, separately and together." I'm going to humor myself and hope that she's right.

-Fran

Last Week #23 | Act Your Age

 Since I didn’t write a blog post last week, I am going to write a little about both two weeks ago, and this past week. Between last week and this week, a weekend existed. A glorious, perfect, amazing three day weekend. (For the first time in my life, I understand why Labor Day exists.) Eli and I went to my family’s lake house in the finger lakes, because I had only been there once all summer and decided this was probably my last chance, before school and work and creative business overtook me and my precious schedule. So we went, and spent time with my cousins, who were also there. 

During the first evening’s dinner, talking to my cousin who is precisely my age and also still in college, I was telling her everything I do with my time. (I’m a talker.) 

At the end of it, she looked astounded. 

"You're doing so much!" She said.

"What do you mean?" I replied.

"You're doing so many things that you're passionate about!"

I was confused. Wasn't that the point? Sure, you probably have to get a 9-5 to survive, preferably in something that you don't hate, but that doesn’t mean you should then spend the rest of your precious time bemoaning the fact that you don't have any time to do what you love. Use that precious little time to DO WHAT YOU LOVE. I get up early and do those things, or use that time to do things that are good for me. Then I go to work, and try to put myself into it. And then I come home, and I try to love others. My boyfriend, my friends, myself. I do some fun things, but mainly deliberately unproductive things. And that's it. That's all I do. That's all we can do. 

Since my birthday is nigh, I’ve been thinking a lot about age. And for some reason, that old adage keeps fluttering back into my head. “Act your age.” And I hate that adage. What even is age? As one of the books that always sat on my mother’s kitchen shelf read, “Age is just a number.” So I don’t get how I can act it. When you’re a young person, people tell you to do this a lot. And it confuses me. Because, how the hell do I act 21? Do I drink? And therefore perpetuate stereotypes about my generation? Or do I work really hard, just so they’ll say that I’m the exception? Is there a way to act your age without stereotyping yourself? I’m afraid I don’t know the answer. Right now I’m nearly 21, I have a full time job and I’m a part-time student. I’m a full time girlfriend and best friend and creator. And I’m also a full-time Fran. I might be young, I feel really old. I hate that just because I haven’t lived 47 years, I’m considered less. I wish that when people said “act your age” they didn’t mean, “Act the age I wish you still were.” It seems that many people are confused by young people if they don’t fit in to a box they can understand. So they say "act your age" but they mean, “Act a different way so I can make sense of you.” I’m 21, I have a full time job, I’m a student, I’m in love, and I’m creative and logical and practical and impractical and stupid and senseless and naive and wise beyond my years. 

I guess what I'm saying is, I don't want to be known for, and judged by, my age. I want to be known for my personality, or writing, or purple hair, or art, or how hard I work, or my heart. And maybe I am. This weekend, I babysat for a family I've been watching for years. (About 6, to be exact.) 

I was telling them about my job, and the mom said, "You're working full time and still doing school?!" She seemed taken aback, like she couldn't believe it. I sighed and moaned about how yes, I was crazy enough to be doing that (because to be honest it was almost 1 am and I was half asleep and freaking moody), but in the back of my head I was thinking, "Dude. Come on. I have a very delicate balance going on here. Don't make me question how in the hell I'm doing this. If I think about it too hard, it'll all come crumbling down."  But the next day, in talking to one of my good friends, she said, "It's because you're an organizational queen. That's how." Essentially telling me to never question or doubt myself. And that's what I mean. I want to be known for who I am, not for my age, not for how much I do. As one of my favorite astrologers once said, "You're a human being, not a human doing." I'm trying to remember that in this stressful time, this age of the rat race, this season of my life. 

-Fran

Last Week #16 | Walk Through It

 In the aftermath of the last few weeks, this past week there was almost deafening silence. For four straight days, I had a sort of mental and physical reset. But as nice as that was, I was over it after about 24 hours. And I was even more over it when I realized that this one week was not going to be the end of it. There will likely be many more lonely days and awkward silences in the coming months, until everything changes for good like it needs to. In all honesty, I’ve come to hate those silences. I used to love them, because they served as a reprieve from the chaos in my head. Now, the chaos is much more manageable (or it’s the same and I’ve learned how to manage it better), but the silence invites even more of that chaos. I don’t know about you, but when I get in a quiet room with only myself and my thoughts, I tend to worry. 

This whole week, I’ve had to keep telling myself to stop living in the future. I caught myself going months and months ahead, envisioning what life will be like, envisioning the ways in which it will be disastrous and won’t work out. I kept having to pull myself back and say, “No. Live right here. Deal with that when you get there.” Which is a huge change for me, as ordinarily I would say, “I’m just thinking ahead. Preparing myself.” But that is a complete lie. I’m thinking ahead alright— and worrying. And that does absolutely nothing except instill a self-fulfilling prophecy of negativity and anxiety. This week I had to tell myself: If I’m going to think ahead, it needs to be positive. If I’m going to plan ahead, it needs to be in a way that benefits me, rather than convinces me things won’t work out. 

But try as I might, I returned, a little bit, to a past version of myself this week. I worried what people thought of me, I felt lonely, I binge-watched TV, I was blonde for a quick second, I fretted about my future and how it could possibly work out, and I started thinking up ways to get to a midnight release of a Harry Potter book while I am on vacation. By Friday I had worked myself into an anxious frenzy which culminated in a very loud conversation with Eli. I had started to convince myself that I was the past me, and that things were going to work out for me the way they always had for me before the magical year of 2015— terribly. I felt needy and lonely and I started to envision ways in which he would let me down or abandon me. I sort of pounced on things that weren't there...because I was afraid. And it's understandable...things are scary right now. Change is scary. But I don't have to indulge it, I don't have to let it win, and it doesn't have to change my behavior or keep me from doing things. Something I've always struggled with is that I often let physically uncomfortable sensations control me. I avoid confrontation, bees, strangely textured foods-- anything that makes me feel less than perfect. But fear is one of those sensations, and I can't let it keep me from moving forward in my life. My challenge is and will be to not indulge my fear.

There’s a moment in my vlog this week where Eli says, “We’re going to have to walk through all of this.” I think that’s a good one-sentence summary of my life right now. Things are changing, growing, and evolving. I'm now faced with the task of walking through all of it-- the change, the loneliness, the fear, the guilt, the happiness, and the anxiety. As much as my fear tries to convince me of this-- it isn’t actually 2013. I know what I want to do with my life, I have a general notion of where I'm headed, and I have the most loyal friends by my side. This new chapter is going to be a trek. But we’re going to walk through all of it together.

 -Fran

Last Week #10 | It's Always Sunny in #frelidalphia

 A year ago, all of this would have seemed like a dream.  For instance, the fact that I spent the Thursday before Memorial Day in a car crossing state lines with my friends and boyfriend, for a weekend of relaxation? Impossible. You may not know this about me, but much of my anxiety is related to sleeping in new places. So vacations, sleepovers, and weekend trips are things I've come to avoid. But when Kelsey and Sam suggested we take a trip to Philadelphia to visit the infamous La Colombe and just have fun for a weekend, I couldn't turn it down. So I spent the last few months since we booked the trip practicing, preparing, meditating, doing yoga and trying to get myself to a good mental place before we left. 

And when the worst case scenario happened, I survived. I started to have an anxiety attack, late at night when it was time for bed, and I worked through it alone. And then we worked through it together. Things weren’t always perfect on this trip. We got on each other’s nerves, we made mistakes, but most importantly, we learned and grew in spite of it. My friendships and relationships with these people are stronger as a result. I’m glad I nearly had an anxiety attack. Because I'm, no-- we're, freaking better for it. 

On the second day we met up with friends from home, serendipitously in the city the same weekend as us. As we sat there in a strange place talking about the life we'd been living miles away from home, I thought about how nothing new is impossible if you have the right people by your side. Any place can feel like home with them. And it suddenly dawned on me how two of our friends made the seemingly impossible decision to pick up and move to the other side of the country. It’s because they had each other. In that moment I realized that I could do the same, with these people. Because I already had. I took a huge step this weekend. I chose to say "fuck you" to my anxiety and do something I wanted to do anyway. That's no small feat, and a lot of the credit should probably go to me, for being strong enough to do it. But a sizable portion of that credit should be given to my friends, for creating an environment in which I felt safe enough to take chances my anxiety ordinarily wouldn't let me take.

I’ve been thinking a lot about family lately. Who matters, and more specifically why they matter. It's different for everyone, but I think some people cling to the archaic, dictionary definition of family in the hopes of keeping the status quo. But that doesn’t always work. If people are meant to, they will drift away regardless of whether or not you dig your heels in and demand they stay. Family is however you define it. For me, it is a hybrid. It’s the people I live with, sure, but it’s also the people I want to live with. It’s my best friend, her boyfriend, my boyfriend. It’s my boyfriend’s family. It’s my mentors, my therapist, my teachers, the people who inspire me and help me to live my best life. It’s the people who care, basically. 

On this trip, I think I saw a flash of the future. I saw a version of us that I suspect could be the real us. A group of genuinely happy people, full of life and love to give. Talented people who are going places. I knew that about us before, but I saw it more clearly in the bright Philadelphia sunlight. 

For me, this meant letting things go. I’m always connected. To technology, to the world, to my worries and anxiety, to this clear cut version of myself I have in my head. I reply to emails within a few hours of when I receive them (if not minutes). I'm practical. I don't like concerts. I can't go on trips because I have anxiety. But this weekend, I simply didn’t do that. I quit cold turkey. I checked my email maybe once a day, but never replied. I watched the anxieties and worries passing through my head, but didn't buy in or subscribe to any of them. I was as impractical and silly as I am physically capable of being. I went to a concert that I actually loved, discovered why people love concerts, and realized that I would see that artist a million more times live. And I learned something that’s kind of life changing. Nothing matters as much as I think it does in the moment. Like, maybe the long weekend vibes got to me, but I just felt like nothing was all that pressing. I wasn't really missing anything by being off the grid. The grid could wait. I could take time to myself, because people don’t actually email me as much as I think they do. At 9:30 am on a Friday, I laid in my bed in Philadelphia listening to Phil Collins’ Drum Duet and writing, having left all my stress back home. 

You can watch my weekly vlog from this week right here. It's one of my favorites. I can tell this will be a vlog I watch when times are tough, to remind me that it will be okay, or at least... it's always sunny in #frelidalphia.

-Fran

#Caiellafornia

 Yesterday, at approximately 8:45 am, I said goodbye to two of my favorite people. They got in the car and got on the road to their new life in California. I still don't quite have the words to describe how I feel about the whole experience. But I'm going to give it a try anyway.

 Over the past few months, no, since about May of 2015, I've gotten closer and closer to these people until it felt like we were this tight-knit group. My whole life, I've kind of been looking for this group. I've been a part of friend groups and have great friends who I love and will always love, but I think I've been looking for this particular creative, passionate group of do-ers for a while. In 2015, I found it. Or more accurately, we built it. We built our friendship on one fundamental commonality: our dreams. Even though our passions and goals are in a variety of different categories and genres, they all have one thing in common: creativity. We are all actively pursuing creative careers, creative dreams. We know how scary and unsound that is, but we're doing it anyway. So even though one of us wants to be a graphic designer and another a musician and another a writer and another a filmmaker and two others coffee shop owners, we all have in common the passionate pursual of those creative dreams.

 In October two members of our group, Sam and Kelsey, made their dream a reality. Peaks Coffee Company opened it's doors on October 3rd, 2015. Right around then, Lottie and John got word that they might have the opportunity to move to California for the type of job John had always dreamed of. Yesterday they departed on that journey. I feel like Eli and I are still working on making ours happen. Being an artist is weird, because it's so intangible. Every little victory feels enormous at the time, but you look back on it and feel that it wasn't that big of a deal. But it's important to remember that every little victory is a brick in the road building to a bigger one. So I think we're on our way. 

 Yesterday Lottie made us promise that we'd take care of ourselves and keep following our dreams. I didn't have any huge New Year's resolutions for 2016, but I think I just found the one I will be actively pursuing this year. For Lottie, and for the people in my life who are constantly striving to make theirs better. To keep growing. To keep learning. To keep saying yes. That's what this admittedly difficult change has taught me. Lottie & John just said HECK YES to the biggest, scariest change imaginable. They packed up their baby dog and their hopes and fears and dreams in one little car and went for it. And for that I find them endlessly inspiring. 

 Before yesterday, I've never had the experience of crying after a friend has left. I always thought that was because I'm a loner, or emotionless, or something. But after they pulled out of the Peaks parking lot and hit the road, Kelsey and I had a moment not unlike the end of The Holiday. We were both Jude Law, crying helplessly in the back room. While right now I'm mourning the physical departure of two people who understood me in ways I never thought possible, I am also rejoicing in their success at the same time, and feeling grateful for the fact that I still have 4/6ths of our little squad here by my side. 

 Friendship is a really weird, ambiguous thing that I don't think I'll ever understand. But I'm excited to keep learning and growing with these people, whether that's from opposite coasts or fifteen minutes down the road.

 -Fran

On Observing

 Lately I’ve been trying to observe. I feel like I’ve been “doing” less, but that’s because I’m trying to observe the life happening around me. Sometimes I have to remind myself that I’m a human being, not a human doing, and it’s enough for me to simply appreciate my life for the wholly un-whole mess it is right now. It really is a beautiful mess. Full of complete and incomplete moments. It’s the best it’s ever been, and all it’s ever been. But I’m constantly afraid that it’s on the verge of coming undone. Unraveling. Unwinding. 

 But that can’t be because for once I’m not, my life isn’t, wound too tightly. It’s loose, hanging in the balance, because there is finally a balance to hang from. There’s finally something to rely on. I’ve finally found something I’d be afraid to lose. Something worth losing. But that’s great, because at least that’s something. Something worth losing was the best thing I ever had.

 The something worth losing is the fireplace warmth on the cold fall nights with the people I love who all love each other. Playing silly games and eating decadent but simple things together. I can hear it. I can feel it. The warmth, the happiness, the laughter spilling over from one person to the next. It’s catching. This season of generosity and warmth-- I’m going to keep saying warmth because that’s what it feels like. It’s so cold out but the interactions between people, between these people, we people, are so warm and friendly and growing and catching and lively and heated and energetic. There is this nervous, fervent, bubbling energy. And I'm beginning to understand, in my twentieth year, that that's what lasting friendship consists of.

 -Fran

Treat. Yo. Self.

This weekend was a little slice of heaven. If the past three days are any indication of what my adult life will be, I'm in. Sign me up. Saturday morning I drove into the sunrise to spend the morning at Peaks Coffee Company with my closest friends. I listened to the most amazing song, and felt grateful because the life unfolding before my eyes looked like it had been taken directly from some awesome indie movie with amazing cinematography. At 9 am, (a time at which I am usually barely breathing) I left to go to my typical every-other-Saturday-shift at the library from 10-3.

 Sunday I woke up late and went apple picking with my family, an annual Colombus Day weekend event. I thought a lot about how this time last year (do I sound like a broken record yet?) I tried so hard to convince myself that I was happy. But I wasn't. This time, however, on the long, traffic-laden drive to the orchard, I couldn't stop smiling. It felt so amazing to just breathe in the moments, and not feel like I had to force them to be moments. When I got home, I lit some autumnal candles and watched the scariest thing my delicate sensibilities can handle-- American Horror Story: Hotel. I ended the day by going to my friend Kelsey's house for some quality Walking Dead bro time. There was monkey bread, popcorn, and a cat sat on my lap. (I know that sounds like a children's story, but it really happened and I was thrilled about it.)

 But Monday was the best day by far. I started the day off right-- with waffles topped with ice cream at my favorite local waffle place. My friend had a spiritual waffle experience, as this was his first time there. Then we got on the road to Rochester, NY for the second time this fall. We spent the day just hanging around Rochester with Kelsey, Sam, and Sam's sister. Kelsey and I finally got to go to Lush together, which was everything I'd ever dreamed of and more. In hindsight I probably spent too much money there, but then I remembered that today is "Treat Yo Self Day" (it's from Parks & Recreation, guys...) and I felt less guilty. After that, we spent the rest of the afternoon sitting in Pour Coffee Parlor with two other friends who now live in Rochester, which is as beautiful and aesthetic as it sounds. I enjoyed a chocolate overload with a chocolate cupcake and hot chocolate, and I have no regrets.

 Some people might not have enjoyed the day I had yesterday. I mean, who makes a lengthy drive to Rochester just to hit up a glorified vegan Bath & Body Works and then sit in a coffee shop for three hours? Well...us. I love these people I've surrounded myself by because they are the kind of people who don't mind taking a day trip just to enjoy the day. They don't have to make a huge ordeal out of something to enjoy it. There is a quiet simplicity in these friendships that I value more than anything else in the world.

 I love the generosity of autumn. I think there's something about the cold air and turning leaves that brings out geniality and for lack of a better term...the best in people. Unlike the Christmas season, which has just become a breeding ground for commercialism and unnecessary stress and anxiety, autumn is to me the most giving time of year. It's harder to do things with the people you love, with school and sports having started up again, but that just means it's that much more worthwhile when plans come together.

That's why this weekend was so great. I was busy, and maybe a little tired, but I was happy. I worked, I got inspired, and I loved. And I'm starting to realize that's all I can ever really ask for in this life.

Happy "Treat Yo Self Day" everyone. I hope you make the most of it!

 -Fran

T W E N T Y on the T W E N T I E T H

 I kind of hate my birthday. I mean, every year my birthday has always coincided with a football game, or a soccer game, or some other sporting event I had no interest in but everyone around me was obsessed with. Two years ago, I had chest pains on my birthday as a result of severe anxiety, and the next morning went to the emergency room after throwing up from back pain. Last year, my childhood babysitter died three days before my birthday, and no one wanted to watch the movie I wanted to watch on my birthday. This year, however, things were different. My friends decided to throw me a party after I pinned a picture of a beautiful fall gathering on Pinterest. 

 I had an amazing day on the 19th. I watched The X-Files with a friend, and then went to the party. They got fall decorations, put up awesome lights and banners, and made all my favorite foods. That night will probably always stick out in my mind as one of my favorite birthday memories: sitting in my friend's aesthetic backyard under the foliage and stars, eating food and laughing. I can’t really begin to say how grateful I am to have these people in my life. I feel so strangely complete when I’m with them. I’ve always considered myself to be this badass independent woman, but when I’m around these people I see how truly empty I’ve been these last few years. Thank you guys for making this day, usually one of the worst days of the year, one of the best. One of my favorite quotes from The X-Files is, "I want to believe." And I do. I want to believe that my life can be like this all of the time. As long as I surround myself with wonderful, awesome, kindhearted and genuine people. September is not easy for me, as I’ve said before. But just having these people there, knowing I could cry or talk to them about anything, made everything easier. At the end of the night it rained, and I danced in the downpour and walked in the drizzle. The leaves blew off the trees as I was driving home, and for once in my life things just felt right.

 Twenty feels very different from 19. It feels more even, balanced. I think 19 was a good number for how I felt last year. A little off-kilter, uneven, so close to that solid footing and yet so far. So it feels weird to have a number that now represents where I'm at. This whole week, I've been marveling at how balanced I feel. Like I can handle things I couldn't before. I have so many more things going for me. Today, on my actual birthday, I went to lunch with my best friend, watched Gilmore Girls with my sister, ate good food, got everything I wanted (I didn't ask for much) and watched Kingsman: The Secret Service. I decorated my room for fall, edited a video, and read Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban. It was simple and quiet, but perfect, because I was so full of love for everyone around me.

 Twenty, I wasn't ready for you before, but I am now. I'm twenty, and good with it.

 -Fran

September

  

  So on Monday, September 7th, we had a Labor day waffle party. We made waffles, watched the fourth episode of Overdue, and talked about plans for Peaks Coffee Company. I feel like a broken record, but I’m so grateful right now. September isn't easy for me...to say the least. But this is the first time in two years that it’s September and I don’t wake up every day with an overwhelming sense of dread in the pit of my stomach. And for some reason that makes me really sad. Every day this weekend, I cried. I cried because I’m happy, and I know that sounds really lame to say, but it’s true. Fall used to be my favorite season, but with the things that have happened to me the past two years, I’ve started to love it less…and have come to dread it even. 

 But with so many cool projects to focus on and incredible people surrounding me, I've nearly forgotten what month it is. Between Peaks, Overdue, writing poetry and stories, making short films, and generally immersing myself in this group of people who are all so passionate about what they're doing, I hardly have time to remember that I'm supposed to be sad. And even though most would consider that really good news, for some reason I'm finding myself crying about it a lot. And although Inside Out taught us all that sometimes you have to be sad to be happy, it's getting a little annoying. I mean, one second I'm driving to Starbucks, and the next I'm sobbing over the musical stylings of Hozier in my car. But luckily, my friends have been understanding and supportive. So now I’m excited to love and look forward to fall again.

 -Fran

8/28/15

  On this momentous day, I want to tell you about another day. A day that wasn’t as fun and easy. A day that was hard. It was only a few weeks ago, but it feels like a lifetime because with these people every moment is so full of life that I feel like I’ve lived a thousand years in the past thirty days.

  Sunday, August 9th was the hardest day in a long time. Not since high school graduation have I felt so simultaneously happy, sad, nostalgic, and some other emotion I can’t totally identify. After finishing filming the final episode of OVERDUE (the last episode of the summer), we ate pizza at one of our cast member’s houses and hung out. And when it was time for me to leave, go home, and pack for my vacation, I didn’t want to go. Not because I wanted to stay longer. I was pretty tired and actually wanted to go home. But no, I didn’t want to leave because it felt so final. To leave for a whole week? For the first time in my life I actually felt like I was leaving something behind. Like I had reason to stay. So even though I was ready for a vacation, I wasn’t ready to leave my friends for a week. And that was really hard. 

 When I got in the car accident that (whether I like it or not) led me to this day, the biggest thing I remember was that the guy with whom I got in the accident got out of his car and shrugged at me as if to say, "What the f*ck, man?" And for a long time, that kept me up at night. I would wake up in the morning or in the middle of the night in a cold sweat and just burst into tears because I couldn't understand it. Why would someone, a teacher of all people, treat another human being with such disrespect, such unkindness? Why would he do that? How could he do that? I shed a lot of tears over that one. So as a result, I (whether consciously or not) became kind of a cynic. With that one shrug, I lost my faith in humanity a little bit. But over the past three months, I've regained it in spades. I've always wanted to be a good person. That's one thing the accident did for me. From that moment on, I decided I wanted to be someone who would treat a person with absolute kindness in that situation.

 And maybe I’m wrong, or overreacting, and none of this actually matters. But this just feels really significant. That a group of people would continuously show up, week in and week out, to help me make this thing happen. That two people who I didn't even know until three months ago would spend the past 48 hours working around the clock to make sure our sound was good. That someone who I was only casually acquainted with in May could now be considered one of my best friends. That these people who I barely even knew a year ago could cause me such pain (like cry my eyes out in the car listening to Taylor Swift, pain) in their leaving. This just feels like a really significant thing, a really significant time in my life. I want to mark that. And I just want to be as good to other people as they consistently are to me. That’s all I want to do.

  I hope you check out the first episode of OVERDUE, which will go live on my YouTube channel at 7 pm. If not for me, do it for all of the other people who worked tirelessly on it this summer.

With lots of love & anxiety,

-Fran

Change.

   I'm feeling this effervescent joy and excitement right now. I love these people. I feel so high when I'm with them. And I can't wait for you all to see the project we made together.

 But it makes me so scared because people leave and things change and nothing is ever as it was before. That's the one thing that always stays the same. Change. It's hard for me to do real life sometimes because I often confuse excitement with anxiety. So I think things are bad when really they're pretty great. That's how I felt this summer. Except for once I knew I had a good thing and it was cool, but now it's over and I'm sad.

 I know this isn't your typical blog post, full of optimism and excitement and facts and intelligence. It's just feelings and me being too pretentious for my own good. But sometimes I have those and feel the urge to share them with you.

 -Fran

Peaks & Valleys

This Saturday I had the best time you could ever have in the frozen wasteland that is Central New York in March. My best friend Kelsey, who I’ve mentioned countless times on this blog, in my YouTube videos, and on Twitter and Instagram, has long harbored a dream of one day owning her own coffee shop. And after many, many months of working jobs that caused her pain, working hard to make the best product she could possibly create, and changing the title of that dream from coffee shop to coffee company, she’s finally there. Peaks Coffee Company is real! And I can honestly say that even if I wasn’t best friends with the owner, I would love this company. I mean, just look at what's written on the back of their bags! 

   "From bean to cup our coffee is roasted fresh with care, cupped for quality, and packaged to order. This life is full of peaks and valleys. So as humble friends we offer our hands to you. This coffee is our guarantee that we will be there to serve you a freshly roasted cup both at your peaks and in your valleys. Stay humble, stay hopeful.  -Peaks Coffee Company"

I’m honestly so honored to be a small part of this momentous achievement of hers. A little backstory on Kelsey and I: although we started off mere acquaintances in 7th grade, when it comes down to it, we’ve been there for each other at our greatest peaks and valleys. In our senior year of high school, when she was experiencing her first major valley, I did everything in my power to be there for her. And in the fall of 2013, when I experienced the greatest and most terrifying valley of my life, she was more than there for me. She got me through it. So to be able to be here with her, at this incredible Peak of hers, is truly an honor. 

Over the past few months, I’ve watched her work harder at this than anything I’ve ever seen in my life. Countless weekends standing in the freezing cold, roasting coffee beans on her back porch with her honest-to-God-saint-of-a-boyfriend Sam. Days and weeks and months spent calculating, charting, and "cupping" her authentic roasts. Hours and hours spent writing, designing, and researching the “aesthetic" and look of her brand. And this weekend, it all paid off. On Saturday, she and the rest of us Peaks volunteers had our first gig at a local antique store called the Heckled Hen. We started off in the parking lot, attempting to brew coffee in the 16 degree weather. That didn’t last long, however, and we soon found ourselves packed in to the antique store itself, in a very precarious corner of the store filled with fragile glassware and teacups. (How fitting, right?) But with only a little table and a single Chemex to brew with, Kelsey and Sam made coffee magic happen. Sam commanded that tiny corner, and with it a small army of eager listeners, as people young and old came through to check out the Heckled Hen’s open house. We did better than we had anticipated, as we came in with about 25 lbs of coffee and left with a mere 6.

Despite the fact that the event had it’s ups and downs, it’s peaks and valleys if you will, I personally felt that it was the most perfect Saturday from start to finish. Earlier that morning, the Peaks crew got together at Dave’s Diner, a little place just across the street from the Heckled Hen, to do what we do best-- eat breakfast food and talk coffee. And even though we had to meet at 8 am (!!!!) it was delightful. The waffles were great and the conversation was even better, which is really all I could ever ask for. 

In the past year and a half, I’ve learned a lot about myself, and about life. I feel like I've changed so much in the past few months even. But, God, am I ever thankful for it. I’ve learned that we’re not all going to be as hugely successful as we think we will be. But we do have lasting effects on the people around us, and that’s not nothing. I’ve learned that it is more than okay to not be happy all the time. I’ve learned that I deserve love, I deserve to be treated like I matter, and I shouldn’t let people in my life who don’t treat me thusly. But more than that, I've learned that I have to believe it for myself first, and demand to be treated the way I deserve.

I’m experiencing some peaks and valleys of my own right now, but it’s okay, because I have good people in my life. Like Kelsey. And Sam. And even though I spent the rest of the weekend feeling exhausted and scared and altogether unwilling to leave my bed, I’m still happy. I’m happy because I got to spend my Saturday morning with friends new and old, drinking hot beverages, eating diner food, and working on making my closest compadre's dreams come true. I'm happy because I can see that we're all starting to become the people we were meant to be, and I feel privileged to bear witness to it. Because it’s really a beautiful thing to witness.

 -Fran 

P.S.~ You can find Peaks Coffee Company on Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram right now, and a website will be coming soon. :)